Rusty's New Mom
by MCFan008
Summary: The first time Rusty gets sick
1. Chapter 1

_I have LOVED the sickfic for this show, so I decided to do one, myself. Whoever is writing the sickfic, PLEASE write more! This is my take on how the first time Rusty gets sick would go. Set sometime in the middle of the first season, where Rusty is still pissy, but he and Sharon are starting to become fond of one another._

Rust woke up one Wednesday morning when his alarm went off, and he immediately turned it off and went back to sleep. He felt horrible. His throat and chest had been hurting for a couple of days, and he had had a light cough, but he hadn't felt that bad. This morning, however, his head was heavy, and he felt achy and tired, on top of the coughing and throat pain. He wondered briefly if he should tell Sharon that he wasn't going to school, but he was too tired to get up. If she was so right about everything all the time, then she would figure it out soon enough. It's not like she would care. His own mom certainly never did, so why would Sharon care, when he wasn't even her real child? When he still lived with his biological mom, he just didn't go to school when he didn't feel like it. She was usually too strung out on drugs to notice that he wasn't at school when he should be, much less to notice that he was sick and try to take care of him.

Sharon was dressed and in the kitchen drinking coffee, when she realized she hadn't heard any signs of Rusty being awake and getting dressed. She walked down the hall to his room, and his bedroom door was still closed. She sighed in exasperation. He was the most difficult child to wake up in the mornings. "Rusty! You better be getting dressed!" She yelled while knocking on his door. She waited a few moments, and didn't hear anything. "Rusty! I'm coming in," she called, knocking on his door again. When he still didn't respond, she opened the door and entered his room. He was sound asleep. "Rusty! Get up NOW! We are going to be late," Sharon said, turning on his light and opening his curtains.

"I'm not going," Rusty muttered, pulling the covers over his head.

"Oh, yes you are," Sharon said, pulling the covers off of Rusty and pulling him into a sitting position. It was then that she noticed the heat radiating from his body. She took a closer look at him, and saw that his eyes were glassy and his cheeks were flushed. "Rusty, are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, Sharon. Just don't feel like going today," Rusty replied, then coughed. Sharon sat and thought for a moment, trying to figure out why Rusty hadn't told her he wasn't feeling well. He had been open with her since he began living with her, letting her know right off when he was unhappy about something. Although his sullen attitude and argumentative nature could get annoying at times, she had dealt with that with her own children, knowing that such behavior was typical of teenagers. She would much rather Rusty behave like he had been than to be shy and reserved, which would make her wonder how he felt about things and feel like she was walking on eggshells around him. This is why she was shocked that he hadn't told her he was sick.

When Rusty moved in with Sharon, she decided that it would be best to treat him like he was her own child. Regardless of how they interacted with one another, she knew it would be awhile before they were comfortable around each other, and she thought this was the best way for them both to adjust to living together. The only thing she held back on was physical contact, because Rusty just didn't seem comfortable with it. Given his abusive background, she decided to ease him into that, by offering gentle touches here and there, and would eventually build up to hugs and kisses. For now, though, she limited their contact to intermittent pats on the back or shoulder, or a brief touch to his face.

This morning, however, Sharon gave in to her motherly instincts and lay Rusty back against his pillows before holding her hand to his forehead to gauge his temperature. He turned away and buried his face in his pillow before she could get a feel for how high his temperature was. Rusty couldn't figure out what Sharon was doing at first, but then he remembered his mom doing that a long time ago, before she got into drugs and was actually a decent mother, when he was sick. He couldn't have been older than four or five years old at the time.

Sharon ignored her reservations about physical contact and grabbed Rusty's chin and turned his head to face her. She put her hand on his forehead again, then felt his cheeks. Although he had a fever, it didn't feel too high. She swept her fingers along his neck, and felt a couple of swollen glands. She wasn't very well-equipped to deal with a sick child. Did she even have a thermometer? The rare times she got sick, she could tell by how she felt whether she had a fever, so she never bothered with a thermometer. She definitely had one in the house when her children lived with her, but she had moved since then, and wouldn't have been surprised if the thermometer got thrown out while cleaning her stuff out. She rarely took over-the-counter medicine, unless she absolutely needed it, so she wasn't sure if she even had Tylenol or Advil.

"I'll be right back," Sharon said, patting Rusty's shoulder. She went into the kitchen and dug through a few cabinets, but couldn't find anything she needed. She tried her bathroom next, and found a glass thermometer and sample pack of Tylenol in the back of the bathroom closet. She went back to the kitchen for a glass of juice, and returned to Rusty's room. She sat beside him on his bed, and held up the thermometer. "Open up," she said.

"Why?" Rusty grumbled, rolling over, away from Sharon.

"You're running a fever, and I need to check your temperature," Sharon said patiently.

"If you're so sure I have a fever, then what's the point?"

"I just need to know. Now open your mouth," Sharon said, giving Rusty a stern look. She held the thermometer under his tongue, and watched the clock beside his bed until it was time to remove it. She pulled the thermometer out of his mouth, and held it up to read it. She squinted for a few moments, and realized that his temperature was just under 101. How had she ever read that thing? She put two Tylenol in his hand, and gave him his juice.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" Sharon asked softly, brushing Rusty's bangs back from his forehead. Looking back on the last couple of days, she remembered him being a little sluggish and coughing a little, and she felt guilty for not asking how he felt before now. Since he had been so open with her about everything else so far, she just assumed that he would let her know if he felt sick. Her own children complained at the first sniffle, and she thought Rusty would have been the same way.

Rusty shrugged. "My mom always ignored me when I was sick, so I just stopped telling her. It didn't do any good. If I felt too sick to go to school, I just didn't go. She never noticed."

"Rusty, you can tell me when you're not feeling well. I won't burn you at the stake. I'll even take care of you," Sharon said, smiling at him.

"Thanks, Sharon, but I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for ten years now." Rusty started coughing heavily then, and Sharon helped him sit up. She rubbed his back until it passed.

"I know you _can_ , but you don't have to anymore. You will have to be an adult soon enough. I'm the parent, here, and I will take care of you when you're sick." Sharon bent down and kissed Rusty's temple. "I'm going to run to the office and get some things, and go to the grocery store. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Call me if you need something, or if you start feeling worse," Sharon said, looking to make sure Rusty's phone was on his nightstand.

"Sharon, you don't need to miss work. I'll be fine."

"No way, Rusty. Being sick and by yourself is no fun. I also need to monitor your temperature, in case we need to go to the doctor later today. Now, do you need anything before I leave?" Rusty shook his head, and rolled over and went to sleep.

Sharon had gotten caught up in something before leaving work, so it took her longer than she originally thought to get back home. She got home four hours later with some paperwork from her office and some groceries, including a new digital thermometer, plenty of Tylenol and Advil, soup, tea, and some cough syrup. She put the groceries away, and went to check on Rusty. She could hear him coughing from the kitchen. She went back to his room, and found him in bed, watching a movie on his computer. He had put on a sweatshirt, and was huddled under his covers. His cheeks were more flushed, and his eyes were more glazed than they had been that morning. Sharon could tell right away that his fever had gone up. She sat beside Rusty and felt his forehead. As suspected, he was burning up.

"Oh, Rusty, why didn't you call me?" Sharon asked, running her fingers through his hair.

Rusty looked at her blankly. "For what?"

Sharon tried not to roll her eyes. "You obviously feel worse. I would have come home sooner if I had known," she said. "Now, you've been coughing, but does anything else hurt?" Rusty shook his head, but Sharon didn't believe him. From the way he was squinting at her, he seemed to have a headache. He had winced that morning when he swallowed the Tylenol and juice, so she suspected that his throat was sore. She gave him one of her trademark Looks, which meant that he better cooperate with her. "Do you have a headache?" Rusty started to shake his head, but thought better of it, and nodded sheepishly. "Does your throat hurt?" He nodded again.

Sharon went to the kitchen for the new thermometer and medicine and to refill Rusty's glass of juice. She put some soup on the stove to heat up for their lunch, and went back to Rusty's room to take his temperature and give him some medicine. She gave him two Advil, then stuck the thermometer in his mouth. She pulled the thermometer out of his mouth when it beeped. "102.8. No wonder you're feeling worse," she said. She opened the cough syrup and poured some into a spoon, then fed it to Rusty. He had forgotten what it felt like to have a mother take care of him when he was sick. It felt nice, and although he knew he wouldn't likely ever be sent back to his mother, he still wasn't convinced that his arrangement with Sharon was a permanent one. He didn't want to get used to being taken care of, just to have it taken away later.

"Sharon, I appreciate everything, but you really don't have to bother with taking care of me. I'm fi—"

"You are not _fine_. You're sick, and I will be right here until you are well. You are not a bother. Get used to it," Sharon said, cupping his hot cheek with her hand. "I'll be right back with lunch." Rusty started to get up to follow her, but she gently pushed him back into his bed.

"I can't eat on the couch, but I can eat in my bed?" Rusty asked, confused.

"Only while you're sick," Sharon said, before turning to go. She prepared two bowls of soup and got two spoons, then went back to Rusty's room. She sat beside him as they both ate and watched the movie on his computer. Sharon had finished her bowl, and Rusty had eaten about half of his when his eyes started to droop.

"Sharon, can I finish this later? I'm really tired," Rusty said shyly.

"Of course," Sharon said, taking his bowl. She took the dishes to the kitchen, and went back to Rusty's room. He was tossing and turning under the covers, trying to get comfortable enough to go to sleep. Sharon sat beside him, and tentatively started patting his back. He seemed to relax a little, so she started patting his back more firmly, and sat with him until he was asleep. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Feel better, honey," she said softly, before getting up and leaving the room.

 ** _More to come…_**


	2. Chapter 2

Sharon walked down to her car to get the humidifier she had bought that morning. She hoped it would help to alleviate Rusty's cough. She had one while her children were growing up, but she remembered throwing it out when she moved. She filled the humidifier with water in the kitchen, then plugged it up in Rusty's room. She got her computer and settled in the chair in his room to do some work. She got up periodically to pat Rusty's back when his coughing sounded bad.

Two hours later, Rusty's coughing became so harsh that it woke him up, and he sat up, trying to clear his lungs. Sharon rushed to his side and started patting his back. He coughed up mucous, and immediately swallowed it. This activated his gag reflex, and before he knew what was happening, he had thrown up all over Sharon and his sheets, getting just a little on the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"Sharon! Oh, my god, I am so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to-"

"Shhh, honey, it's okay. I know you didn't do it on purpose." Sharon got a clean sweatshirt, then helped Rusty pull his off. She pulled the clean sweatshirt over his head, and tossed the dirty one in his hamper. She went to the bathroom for a cold cloth, then came back and wiped Rusty's face and mouth.

"Sharon, don't worry about me. Go change clothes. This is disgusting."

"Rusty. I have to go to the morgue at least twice a week. This is hardly disgusting. And it's definitely not the first time I've been vomited on. When my children were growing up, I think they got more vomit on me than anywhere else. Sometimes, I think Ricky was doing it on purpose." Sharon smoothed her hand over Rusty's hot forehead. "Go lie down in my bed while I change your sheets," she said, helping him stand up.

"No, Sharon, I'll clean this up. You go change clo-"

"My room. Now," Sharon said, taking his arm and guiding him to her room. She pulled her covers back and tucked Rusty in before bringing him his juice from his room. "Are you warm enough?" Sharon asked when she noticed him shiver. He nodded, but Sharon didn't believe him, and went to turn the thermostat up in the hall. She put her robe on, and cleaned Rusty's sheets and her clothes as well as she could before throwing them in the wash, along with the clothes in Rusty's hamper. She got a clean set of sheets out of the linen closet, and put them in the dryer to warm up while she took a quick shower. Once she was dressed and Rusty's bed was made, she led Rusty back to his bed.

"Mmphhh, these sheets feel so good," Rusty mumbled as Sharon tucked him in.

"I thought they would," Sharon said, smiling at him. "Sheets fresh from the dryer is the best feeling in the world when you're sick."

Rusty had been feeling a little guilty for the last few weeks about how he had been acting toward Sharon when he moved in with her. He had been trying to act more pleasant, but his anger at his mom got in the way. Sharon's rules didn't help anything, either. He had basically been on his own since he was a child, and wasn't used to someone telling him what to do and correcting him all the time. He knew he was much better off living with Sharon, but it was difficult for him to give up his independence.

As Sharon put her hand on his forehead with a concerned look on her face and turned him on his side so she could rub his back, the guilt hit Rusty full force. He never expected Sharon to even notice that he was sick, much less to take care of him like this. It wasn't like he was her son, he was just a material witness in a murder trial that she had to make sure didn't disappear. He would feel less guilty if Sharon would would go to work and just leave him alone until he was better. He also found himself enjoying Sharon's gentle attention to him while he was sick, but he didn't want to get attached to her, because he knew that he would be back in the system once the murder trial was over.

Rusty sat up and started coughing. It sounded like he was coughing something up, so Sharon grabbed the cloth she had used to wipe his face earlier and held it in front of his mouth. "Don't swallow it, honey, that will make it worse," she said softly, patting his back. Rusty looked at her and shook his head. He was not about to spit whatever he had just coughed up into her hand, and it was too cold in his room for him to reach out from under the covers to take the cloth from her.

"Rusty. Spit. It's okay. It will take longer for you to get better if you keep swallowing it. It's going to take a lot more than a little mucous to gross me out, I promise." Too weak to argue, Rusty obeyed, and Sharon got up and tossed the cloth in his trash can. She put the trash can beside his bed, then went to the kitchen for a box of tissues. When she came back, Rusty was still sitting up. She put the tissues on his nightstand and sat beside him, putting her arm around his shoulders. "You okay?" She asked.

"Sharon, I've been...a brat. I don't deserve all of this. I'm pissed off at my mom, and I've been taking it out on you."

"All teenagers are brats. You haven't been any worse than my children were at your age. Until you've screamed at me at the top of your lungs about how horrible I am and called me a bitch, or caused my phone to ring in the middle of the night because you've taken my car without me knowing and tried to buy alcohol with a fake ID, then you can consider yourself better-behaved than both Emily and Ricky."

" _What_?!"

"Oh yes. Both true stories. Rusty, this is new for both of us. You're accustomed to having your independence and no one to answer to, and I'm having to get used to being responsible for another person's needs and well-being. I haven't had a child in my home in over ten years now."

"You don't have to do that, though. I mean, I'm only here until the trial."

"You plan to ditch me that fast?" Sharon joked.

"Well, I mean, you guys won't need my testimony anymore. I'll get put back in the system, or I guess sent back to my mom, if she's around by then."

"Honey, you will always have a home with me. If your mom gets her act together and you want to live with her, that's fine. If she gets her life together and you want to stay with me, then I will do everything in my power to make that happen. When you turn 18 and the court can't tell you whom you have to live with anymore, you will always be welcome here. No matter what. I won't force you to stay with me, but I would be happy if you did."

"But... _Why?!_ I mean, I would love to stay with you, but I'm a lot of trouble. And money," he said, thinking about all of the new clothes and things she had bought for him. Not to mention the private school he was attending.

"Although I initially took you in to protect you as a material witness, that's not why I want you to stay. I'm starting to love you like you're my own child, and I would miss you if you weren't here. Also, you're smart, and you have a lot of potential, and I want to help you reach that potential."

Rusty felt like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. He didn't have to worry anymore about being thrown back into the system and being placed with another shitty family. He started coughing again, and Sharon helped him lean forward and patted his back. She grabbed a few tissues, and held them out for Rusty to spit into. She threw the tissues away, and turned back to Rusty. He had tears in his eyes from coughing so violently. "I'll be right back," she said, picking up his empty juice glass. She remembered that she had bought gatorade at the store. "Would you rather have gatorade? Or do you want more juice?"

"Gatorade...Wait, is it blue?"

"Of course," Sharon said, patting his leg and leaving the room.

Sharon went to the kitchen and called her family doctor to make an appointment for Rusty the next day. She poured a glass of gatorade, and went back to Rusty's room and sat on the edge of his bed. After he had taken a few sips, she felt his forehead. "You're burning up. I can't give you more medicine for another hour," she said, then climbed onto Rusty's bed from the other side. She wrapped her arm around him and placed his head against her shoulder. Rusty fidgeted and felt awkward at first, but after a few moments he gave in to Sharon's mothering and found that it was soothing to lie against her like this.

"Does your head still hurt?" Sharon asked. When Rusty nodded, she started massaging his temples with her hand.

"God, that feels good," Rusty mumbled. Once he had fallen asleep, Sharon couldn't bring herself to get up. She felt much like she had as a young mother, holding her sleeping baby and not wanting to put it down. She lay there and held Rusty until he woke up a couple of hours later, and she had to get up to fix them something for dinner.

That night, Sharon gave Rusty some Tylenol PM and cough syrup before tucking him into bed. "Goodnight, sweetie. Wake me if you need me," she said, leaning down and kissing his forehead. She was concerned at how hot he felt. She picked up the thermometer and held it under his tongue. "103.7. That's not good," she said. Thirty minutes later, the Tylenol PM and a cold cloth to his forehead had brought his fever down to 102.8. "Better, but still not great," Sharon said when she read the thermometer. Rusty was starting to nod off, so Sharon ran her fingers through his hair and gently rubbed his forehead until he was completely asleep. "Precious boy," she murmured, leaning down and kissing the top of his head before leaving the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Sharon tossed and turned until midnight, reluctant to go to sleep. She was afraid she wouldn't wake up if Rusty needed her. After getting up twice to pat Rusty's back during particularly violent coughing fits and soothe him back to sleep, she finally fell asleep. She woke at 2:30, hearing him call out in his sleep. She padded down the hall to his room and sat next to him on his bed. She turned on his lamp, and made sure that the water and various medicine from the day before were still on his nightstand.

"Please don't hurt me...Sick...can't help it...trying to quiet...Mom..." Rusty's voice was getting more quiet with each word, but he was still thrashing around, and was clearly in distress. There were tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. Sharon put her hands on his cheeks and wiped his tears away with her thumbs. She repeatedly stroked his cheeks with her thumbs, trying to wake him. "Wake up, honey. You're having a bad dream. You're okay. I'm here."

 _Rusty was seven years old. He was huddled against the wall in his bed, coughing as quietly as possible into his comforter. It was a Saturday, and he had been sick for almost a week. His school had threatened to call child services yesterday if his mom kept sending him to school while he was so sick, and she and her current boyfriend had been screaming at him about it since yesterday._

 _"Stop that coughing, boy, before I come MAKE you stop!" The man's voice bellowed from the next room._

 _"I'm trying...can't help it. I'm sick!" Rusty sobbed. Why didn't his mom take care of him when he was sick anymore? She had never been great at it, but she used to at least hold him in her lap and rub his back, play with his hair, and anything else she thought might comfort him when he didn't feel well._

 _"Are you talking back to me?" The man yelled as he entered Rusty's room and approached his bed._

 _"No! Please don't hurt me. I'm sick, but I'm trying to be quiet. I want Mom," Rusty cried, with tears streaming down his cheeks. The man reached for Rusty's face with both hands, and Rusty squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself, preparing for the inevitable blow._

 _Instead, he felt soft, cool hands on his cheeks, and heard a woman's gentle, soothing voice. "You're okay. I'm here. You're okay. I'm here. You're okay. I'm here..." That wasn't his mom's voice. Who was here, and why couldn't she see that he was far from okay?_

Rusty dared to open his eyes, and was relieved to find Sharon leaning over him. It took him a few moments to remember that he lived with her now, and he finally realized that he had just had a nightmare. He grabbed her wrist, seeking comfort after the unpleasant reminder of his past. Sharon recognized his need to be soothed, and lifted her hand that wasn't in his iron grip and swept his bangs back from his face. He sighed contentedly when her hand brushed against his forehead, so she let it linger there for a few moments. She winced at the heat that met her palm.

A few minutes later, Rusty sat up, coughing so hard he could barely catch his breath. Sharon patted his back until it was over. "It hurts, Sharon," he groaned.

"I know, baby. I'm taking you to the doctor tomorrow," Sharon said, pulling him into a warm embrace and holding him for a few moments. "Your fever feels high again," she said, gently leaning him against his headboard and reaching for the Advil. She shook out two pills and placed them in his palm before handing him his water. After he had taken a few sips, she replaced the glass and picked up the cough syrup. She carefully poured some into the spoon and fed it to him.

"That sounded like some nightmare," Sharon said, climbing into bed beside Rusty. He instinctively leaned against her shoulder. "Want to talk about it?" She had a good idea of what his dream was about from the things he had said in his sleep, but she wanted to help him clear his head before he went back to sleep.

"No...Did I say anything?" There was a panicked edge to his voice.

"Not much," Sharon lied, trying to sound nonchalant. She didn't want him to know what she had heard if it would upset him. "Do you have nightmares often?" She had never heard him calling out in his sleep before, but their bedroom doors were also usually closed at night. Sharon had been sure to leave both doors open tonight, so she could hear him if he needed her.

"Sometimes...I usually wake up before they get too bad, though. And they're not usually so vivid." He shuddered at the memory. He felt bad for waking Sharon, and knew she probably wanted to go back to bed. He hated to admit it to himself, but he was secretly hoping she would stay with him. He was entirely too old for that, though, and she had already done so much for him. "I probably won't have another one tonight," he said hastily.

"Not while I'm here," Sharon said, wrapping a protective arm around him.

Rusty sat up. "Sharon, you can go back to your bed. I'm fi-"

"Shhh," Sharon soothed, pulling his head back to rest against her shoulder. She rocked him back and forth, humming softly and gently rubbing his forehead until he was asleep. After holding him for a while, she eased him down and turned him on his side before lying down beside him. She placed a protective hand on his arm as she fell asleep, hoping to assure him that she was with him, even as he slept.

On Thursday morning, Sharon woke at 8:30. Her hand was still on Rusty's arm. She had heard him coughing after they both went back to sleep, but he didn't seem to have another nightmare. She reached over and gently felt his forehead. His fever hadn't gone down at all, but she knew that the Advil from the night before had worn off. She got up and went into the kitchen to make breakfast for herself and call Chief Taylor to inform him that she wouldn't be back to work until Monday, at the earliest. She rarely took vacation or sick days, so she knew it wouldn't be a problem.

Once Sharon had gotten off of the phone with Chief Taylor, her phone dinged. It was a text from Sykes.

 _Good morning, Captain. I think I have the flu, and won't be in today, if it's not a problem. I'll let you know how long the doctor tells me to stay home after my appointment this afternoon, and will have a written excuse when I return._

Sharon tried not to roll her eyes. Provenza was right about Amy being a suck-up. Of course it wasn't a problem. The last thing she needed was for Amy to spread the flu to the rest of the squad. She quickly responded.

 _No problem. Rusty is still sick, so I won't be back today, either. Rest, and get yourself well._

Sharon heard Rusty coughing then, so she quickly forwarded Amy's text to Provenza, since he was taking over the squad in her absence, before going to check on him. She sat on his bed and helped him sit up. "There's crap in my throat," Rusty groaned, his voice barely a whisper. His voice was completely gone. He sounded much like the whiny teenagers her children had been when they were sick. Sharon was actually relieved that he was whining and wanting her to take care of him. She grabbed a handful of tissues and held them in front of his face.

"Try to cough it up. You'll feel a little better," she said, patting his back.

 _"_ That's just gross," Rusty said, shaking his head.

"No, honey. That's not gross. 'Gross' is trying to figure out the identity of a corpse in the morgue that had been in the woods for four months before it was discovered. It was all rotted, except for the hair. It smelled like-"

"Oh, my god, Sharon, stop. I get it." Sharon suppressed a laugh at the horrified, and slightly nauseous, look on his face.

"Cough." Sharon said, holding up the tissues. Rusty reluctantly obeyed, and tried to clear the phlegm from his throat. He coughed into the tissues a few times, and Sharon threw them away. "How are you feeling?" She asked, pulling him close to her.

"Like hell," Rusty answered, lying on her shoulder. Sharon brushed his bangs back and kissed his forehead.

"You're still burning up," Sharon said, frowning. She took his temperature, then gave him two Advil after getting a reading of 103. "Get in the shower while I make breakfast. Your appointment is at 10:00," she said, rummaging around for some clean clothes. "Waffles okay?" She asked as she handed him the clothes she had gathered. Rusty nodded, and walked into the bathroom.

Rusty sat nervously on the exam table in Dr. Leary's office. He had been to a doctor a few times after being attacked by Phillip Stroh, but, other than that, he didn't remember ever going to a doctor. He didn't know what to expect. The door opened, and a tall, blonde woman, who looked a little older than Sharon, walked in.

"Hi, I'm Dr.-Oh, hi, Sharon," she said, with a note of inquiry in her voice.

"Hi, Dr. Leary. Rusty is my foster son," Sharon said, understanding her confusion.

"Ah, got it. So, what's the problem?" Dr. Leary asked, turning to Rusty. He looked helplessly at Sharon.

Sharon spoke up. "He started running a fever yesterday morning, and he has a productive cough. His throat is sore, and he's had a persistent headache." Rusty nodded in agreement.

"All right..Rusty, I need to look in your throat," the doctor said. Rusty slightly opened his mouth. "Open wide, and stick your tongue out," she instructed. Rusty obeyed, and she peered in his throat. "Your throat is inflamed, probably from coughing. No wonder it hurts," she said, patting his shoulder. She placed the end of her stethoscope in several places on his chest and back, periodically asking him to take deep breaths.

"Did the symptoms start suddenly, or did they gradually get worse over a few days?" Rusty looked at Sharon again, but she indicated for him to answer. She knew that his symptoms had gradually gotten worse over a few days, but she wasn't sure of the exact timeline.

"I started coughing and feeling like I had a cold on Sunday. My throat and chest started hurting on Monday, and the coughing and sore throat have gradually gotten worse since then."

Dr. Leary nodded. "When did you start coughing up phlegm?"

"Yesterday," Sharon answered, looking at Rusty for confirmation. He nodded. She wanted to speak for him as much as possible, since his throat was so sore.

"What color was it? Any blood?"

"Some yellow, some green. No blood." Rusty flushed in embarrassment. He couldn't believe Sharon had looked at that stuff before throwing it away. She had appeared to close the tissues too quickly to look each time he coughed up phlegm, but she must have opened them before throwing them in the trash can.

"I had to make sure you weren't coughing up blood, Rusty," Sharon said, seeing the look on his face. Whatever. That was still gross.

"One of my detectives has the flu, and Rusty spends a lot of time at work with me," Sharon said. She had suspected bronchitis, but now that she knew that Amy had the flu, she wasn't so sure.

"I'll do a flu test just to make sure, since it's possible that he's been exposed to it, but I believe he has bronchitis. Flu symptoms hit you all at once, and the flu wouldn't make him cough like this." The doctor did a quick flu swab and left the room, promising to be back in fifteen minutes.

"Who has the flu?" Rusty asked, curious.

"Amy."

"So, like, what happens when you're not at work?"

"It's pretty easy right now, since we don't have a case. Provenza is taking over for me, and Chief Taylor is also lightly supervising. If we were to get a case, then Provenza would still take the lead, but every decision would have to go through Chief Taylor. I would get all of the information on the case, and do what I could from home."

"What happens if everyone gets the flu from Amy, and you get a case?"

"Hopefully, that won't be an issue, but we would have to call in reinforcements from other departments."

Dr. Leary came back in the room then. "The flu test is negative. Bronchitis is viral most of the time, so he probably doesn't need an antibiotic. Even if it is bacterial, it will still clear up on its own. I called in a cough syrup with codeine, which should help him sleep. He can go back to school when he feels well enough, as long as his temperature has been normal for at least 48 hours. The rule is usually 24 hours, but he has a pretty vicious case, so I would like for him to have an extra day of fever-free rest before he goes back."

"Thanks, Dr. Leary," Sharon said, turning to Rusty and helping him off of the exam table.

"No problem. Call the office Saturday morning if his temperature is higher than 102, and I'll call in an antibiotic. Feel better, Rusty."

"Thanks," Rusty croaked.

Once they got home, Sharon tucked a sheet into the couch cushions and got out several blankets. She got Rusty's pillow from his room, and settled him on the couch with a cup of tea. She gave him his cough syrup and two Tylenol before heating up some soup for their lunch. Once the dishes had been cleared away, Rusty lay down and Sharon sat at her desk to work on her computer. An hour later, he was still awake. Sharon walked over to the couch and sat on the edge of it beside Rusty.

"Good movie?" She asked, nodding toward the TV.

"Not really...Just can't sleep," Rusty mumbled.

Sharon held her hand to his forehead. He felt a little cooler, but he still felt too warm for her to stop worrying. She lifted his head and turned his pillow over to the cooler side, then gently lay him back down. She traded the blanket he was wrapped in for a thicker, softer one in the stack at the end of the couch, and spread it over him, tucking it around his shoulders. She ran her fingers through his hair and over his forehead and started humming the same tune she had hummed the night before. Rusty relaxed immediately, and was soon sound asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Rusty woke at 10:00 on Saturday morning, finally feeling a little better. It didn't hurt quite so much to cough, and his throat wasn't quite as sore. His head didn't feel as heavy as it had been, and he wasn't as achy, so he could tell his fever was lower than it had been the day before. He had spent the majority of Friday lying on the couch with his head in Sharon's lap. He had tried to convince her to go to work that morning, but she had refused. He didn't really want her to leave, but he felt guilty that she was missing so much work when he could take care of himself.

Rusty wanted to stay in bed a while longer to give Sharon a few more minutes of peace, but hunger won out. Sharon had had to force him to eat since he had gotten sick, but today he actually had an appetite. When he walked into the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal, Sharon was sitting in a bar stool, finishing up a phone call with Chief Taylor.

"Yes. Provenza and Sanchez are now out with the flu as well, and I'll be back...please hold on one minute." Sharon glanced at Rusty. He looked much better. His cheeks were only slightly flushed, but his glassy eyes confirmed that he was still running a fever. "I won't be back until Tuesday, at the earliest," she said, returning to her conversation with Chief Taylor. Rusty groaned inwardly. "Yes, this Bronchitis has hit him pretty hard...I will. Thank you."

"Hi, honey. How are you feeling?" Sharon asked after hanging up the phone.

"I'm not sick anymore. I can go to school on Monday," Rusty said, getting his favorite cereal and a bowl out of the cabinets.

"Oh, really?" Sharon said, tilting her head. "That's odd...You still look pretty sick to me." She walked over to Rusty and felt his forehead. He felt almost normal, to her relief, but she still detected a hint of a fever. "You still feel a little warm, too. You heard Dr. Leary, you're stuck with me for at least two more days," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "Go sit on the couch, I'll bring you your cereal."

"I can do i-"

"Sit." Sharon said, in her 'do-not-argue-with-me' tone. Rusty gave up, went to the couch, and turned on the TV. Sharon came in a couple of minutes later with his cereal and the thermometer. "Temperature first," she said, holding up the thermometer. Rusty rolled his eyes, but obediently opened his mouth. "99.1," she said, after pulling the thermometer out of his mouth a couple of minutes later.

"Come on, Sharon. That's barely even a fever."

"Dr. Leary said you may go back to school after your temperature has been _normal_ for two days, not 'barely even a fever' for two days," Sharon said, amused at Rusty's eagerness to go back to school. Ricky and Emily had always tried to bleed her for every day off they could get. _Tried_ being the operative word, there. Rusty started coughing, and Sharon patted his back until it stopped. She got up to get his cough syrup. She decided to hold off on the Tylenol, since his fever was pretty low. She knew the fever was necessary to fight off the illness, so she didn't want to give him Tylenol unless his temperature got higher or he complained of a headache.

"Please, no. That stuff knocks me out. I'm tired of sleeping," Rusty whined when Sharon approached him with the bottle of medicine.

"That's kind of the point," Sharon said, smiling at him. "You have to rest if you want to get well."

"I knew you were going to say some crap like that," Rusty grumbled.

"Well, aren't we psychic this morning. Am I going to have to make airplane noises?" Sharon asked jokingly, holding up the spoon she had filled with cough syrup. Rusty sighed, and allowed Sharon to feed him the medicine.

"Does your head hurt?" Sharon asked, wanting to make sure she shouldn't give him some Tylenol. Rusty shook his head. "Okay...tell me if you do get a headache, and I'll give you some Tylenol. Your temperature is low enough without it for now." Rusty nodded, and reached for a blanket. Sharon grabbed one and wrapped it around his shoulders before sitting beside him.

"So...Amy gave Provenza the flu? He's going to torture her until the end of time," Rusty said, leaning against Sharon.

"Yes, he is," Sharon agreed, putting her arm around Rusty and pulling him closer to her. "Amy's going to wish she still had the flu when Provenza comes back to work."

Rusty continued to feel better over the weekend, and Sharon reluctantly allowed him to return to school on Tuesday. He hadn't had a fever since Saturday night, but his cough still sounded terrible, and he looked so tired. Dr. Leary had said his cough would probably linger for a couple of weeks, though, so Sharon gave in.

"Okay...Here's your doctor's excuse for your absences," Sharon said, giving him a slip of paper before he got out of her car at school. "Give it to the receptionist. If you don't feel well enough to make it through the day, then go to the nurse. I'll be happy to come pick you up." Rusty nodded, and Sharon kissed his forehead. "Have a good day," she said as he was getting out of her car.

Sharon took a blanket to work with her and put it on the green chair in her office, intending to make Rusty rest for a while after school before starting his homework. Rusty quite willingly went straight for the chair after school both Tuesday and Wednesday afternoon.

The following Monday, Sharon was in the squad room when Rusty got to the station after school. Amy, Julio, and Provenza were back, but now Flynn was out. "Hi, Rusty...You okay?" She asked when she saw how pale he was.

"Yeah, just, um...Do you have any Tylenol? My head hurts," Rusty said shyly. Sharon held her hand to his forehead.

"You don't have a fever, but I can tell you're not feeling well. Come with me, there's some Advil in my desk." Sharon put her arm around Rusty and walked him to her office, after detouring by the break room for a soda. Her motherly habits were coming back to her, and she now kept a stash of medicine in her office, her purse, her car, and at home. Sharon shook two Advil from the bottle and placed them in Rusty's palm. Once he was settled in the chair, Sharon tucked the blanket around his shoulders. "I just need to finish up out there really quick, and then we can go home," Sharon promised.

Sharon and Rusty were home by 4:30. Rusty coughed a good bit in the car, and Sharon noticed a rattling sound that hadn't been there before, and began to worry. She had stopped to get Rusty a burger for an early dinner, in case he went to sleep and didn't want to get up to eat dinner later. After he had eaten, he went straight for his bedroom. Sharon waited a few minutes to give him time to change, then went to take his temperature. She sat on the edge of his bed and felt his forehead. "You don't feel warm, but I'm going to take your temperature, just in case," she said, placing the thermometer in his mouth. She got a normal reading a couple of minutes later. Maybe he just needed a little extra sleep. Sharon gave him a spoonful of cough medicine.

"If you're too tired to do your homework later, don't worry about it. If you're feeling well enough to go to school tomorrow, I'll email your teachers and explain why you didn't do it." Sharon didn't approve of making excuses for her children, but Rusty clearly wasn't well. He hummed in acknowledgment and rolled over. Sharon ran her fingers through his hair until his breathing evened out, and she was sure he was asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Rusty woke up on Tuesday morning feeling miserable. His head was killing him, his throat was sore, and he had been coughing all night. His head felt heavy, and he was freezing. His first instinct was to get ready for school anyway, but he knew he would never make it past Sharon's hawk eyes. He felt guilty for keeping her from work, and he knew she would insist on staying home with him. He actually enjoyed being taken care of, but he still felt guilty. He lay in bed, debating what to do. He knew he wouldn't be allowed out of the condo once he was in Sharon's line of vision, so he decided to go ahead and find her. She could at least give him some medicine and help him feel more comfortable.

Sharon, still clad in her bathrobe, was applying makeup in her bathroom when she heard Rusty walking down the hall. When he got to the kitchen, he immediately walked back toward the hall. "Shaaaa-ron," she heard him call out, followed by a harsh-sounding cough. At that moment, Sharon remembered for the first time that morning that Rusty had seemed to be getting sick again the day before. How had she slept through the night? She never slept well when she had a sick child. She didn't recall hearing him cough the night before, and she had been sure to leave both of their doors open. She hoped that meant he was feeling better, but he sure didn't sound good.

"In my bathroom, honey. You can come in." Rusty walked through her bedroom and shuffled over to Sharon.

"I don't feel good," he mumbled, looking at his feet. Sharon would normally have laughed at how whiny he sounded, but he certainly looked sick enough to warrant a little whining.

"I can see that," she said softly. She put her makeup brush down and put an arm around him. She pressed her other hand to his forehead, feeling for the fever she was already certain was there. The boy was shivering, despite the fact that he was wearing a thick sweatshirt. "Oh, honey, you feel pretty warm," she said, giving his shoulders a light squeeze. "Back to bed. I'll be right there with some medicine." Rusty shuffled back to his room while Sharon found some Tylenol and his cough syrup. She got a glass of Gatorade from the kitchen, then went back to Rusty's room and sat next to him on his bed.

"Let me check your temperature," Sharon said, holding up the thermometer. She held it under his tongue and brushed his bangs back from his forehead while she waited for it to beep. "101.3," she said a couple of minutes later. "Is your nose stuffy? You sound congested." Rusty nodded. "What else hurts?" Before he could answer, he started coughing. Sharon patted his back until it stopped. She was concerned when she heard the same rattling sound she'd heard the day before.

"That definitely hurts...and headache...bad. My throat."

Sharon gave him two Tylenol and the glass of Gatorade before pouring the cough syrup into a spoon. She fed it to him once he had swallowed the pills.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Not hungry."

"You need to eat something after taking all of that medicine. I'll bring you something light." Sharon kissed the side of his head before going into the kitchen. She grabbed her phone out of her room so she could text the chief that she wouldn't be in today. When she looked at her phone, she had texts from Tao and Buzz that they were both staying home with the flu. _Good grief,_ she thought. She quickly texted her sympathies to Tao and Buzz before texting the chief and Provenza about the absences for the day. She got some yogurt out of the refrigerator for Rusty's breakfast, and grabbed a banana for herself. Once they had eaten, she changed into her favorite sweatpants and an old LAPD sweatshirt before going back to Rusty's room.

"When did you start feeling so bad?" Sharon asked, climbing onto Rusty's bed and pulling him close to her. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he instantly relaxed and lay against her shoulder.

"I had a headache all day yesterday, and I woke up freezing in the middle of the night. I didn't get hit by a bus until this morning, though."

"When did it start hurting your chest to cough?"

"Yesterday. I guess I noticed it around lunchtime."

"You should have gone to the infirmary, honey. I would have been happy to come pick you up. Please don't ever hesitate to go to the nurse if you don't feel well."

"I thought you, like, had to have a fever before they would send you home," Rusty said, remembering one of the parent information packets he had looked through before school started.

"They require a student to be sent home if they have a fever, but the nurse will usually still call a parent and at least see what they want to do about it if your temperature is normal. Especially now, since I-an irate parent laid into the nurse several years ago when their sick child was sent back to class. From what I hear, there was weeping involved."

"Why do I get the feeling that _you_ were the _irate parent?"_

Sharon smiled. "You caught me. Emily occasionally got migraines when she was in high school. Nothing specific seemed to trigger them, so they always came with little warning. They would start by making her face feel numb. Within an hour of that, she would have a blinding headache and start getting sick to her stomach. They never caused her to have a fever, though. I was with her the first time she had one, and it scared me to death. I didn't know what was happening to her. After that, I told her to go to the nurse as soon as she felt one coming on, should she ever get one at school, since they escalated so quickly. Anyway, she started to feel a migraine coming on at school one day, so she went to the infirmary. The nurse thought she was faking, since she didn't have a fever, and sent her back to class. A little while later, she had to leave class to be sick, but she was in too much pain to move fast enough to make it to the bathroom. The principal found her on her knees in the hall, throwing up and crying, so he took her to the nurse and had her call me. When I got there, Emily was curled into a ball on a cot, with her hands over her eyes to try to block the light, and had vomit all over her."

Rusty's eyes widened, knowing how pissed Sharon must have been. "Please tell me you made a scene."

"Well, not right then, because I didn't know the details yet. That night, once Emily had slept off her migraine, I asked her to tell me what happened. All I knew was that she had gotten sick before the nurse called me, and it worried me that she hadn't gone to the nurse at the first sign. Once I knew the whole story, I. Was. Furious."

"But what if she really had been faking? How would you have known?"

"I may not have known right away, but I would have known in an hour or so. The pain in her eyes and the sickness I had seen when she did have a migraine can't be mimicked. And she would have been in big trouble."

"Sharon, you can go to work. I'll be fine," Rusty said, sitting up. He didn't want her to, but he didn't want her to think that he expected her to stay home with him.

Sharon tilted her head. "You've had enough quality time?" She joked.

"I just don-"

"I'm not leaving you. Besides, Tao and Buzz texted me earlier that they have the flu. They're the last of the squad to get it. Maybe the office will be safe again by the time you're well."

Rusty hadn't even thought of the possibility of Sharon getting sick. The way she had taken control and confidently taken care of him the first time he was sick made her seem invincible. She clearly hadn't been worried about getting sick, so the thought never crossed his mind. "Oh, God, Sharon, what if _I_ get you sick? I haven't even thou-"

"Shhh, it's okay. In twenty years of taking care of my children when they were sick, I never once caught anything from them. And they brought home every germ St. Joseph's had to offer, I can promise you. If I do get sick, it won't be your fault. Taking care of you is well worth the risk. Getting sick because co-workers can't keep their germs to themselves, however, is an entirely different story."

Rusty started coughing then, and Sharon grabbed a few tissues from his nightstand, knowing something was coming up from his lungs. she held them out for him to cough into, and threw them in the trash can beside Rusty's bed. Now that he had considered the possibility of Sharon getting sick, she knew he wouldn't voluntarily seek comfort from her any longer. She pulled his head back to her shoulder. The cough syrup was starting to kick in, and he was getting drowsy. Rusty gave up and snuggled against her, falling asleep as she carded her fingers through his hair.

After Rusty had fallen asleep, Sharon stared down at him, wondering whether to take him back to the doctor. She had never been one to rush her children to the doctor after the first sniffle, and his temperature wasn't too bad, but his cough worried her. She decided to wait and see if he improved at all during the day. She gently lay Rusty down and tightened the covers around him. She got up and picked up his clothes hamper and started a load of laundry. She spent the morning doing laundry, cleaning the kitchen, living room, and bathroom, and periodically checking on Rusty.

Sharon was changing the sheets on her bed when she thought she heard Rusty stirring. She went into his room, and found him lying on his side, coughing into some tissues. She took the tissues from him and threw them away. Rusty looked up at her with pitiful eyes as she sat beside him and felt his forehead. His skin burned against her palm.

"You're feeling worse, aren't you, honey," Sharon said softly, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. Rusty nodded. "I'll be back in a few minutes with some soup," she said, after taking his temperature and reloading him with medicine. "Finish your Gatorade. You need to stay hydrated." She touched his forehead one final time and left the room to fix lunch and call the doctor's office.

They spent the rest of the day watching movies on Rusty's laptop, both napping on and off. After eating a quick dinner, they started another movie. The next thing Sharon knew, she was being pulled out of a deep sleep to the sound of Rusty coughing. She looked at her phone, which was on his nightstand. It was 6:30 in the morning. She closed the laptop and set it on the floor. She patted Rusty's back and stroked his hair, hoping he would stay asleep. She put her hand on his forehead, and was alarmed at the heat she felt. She had never felt a fever that high on Emily or Ricky. If he hadn't had a doctor's appointment in three hours, she would have dragged him out of bed and taken him to the emergency room. When he had stopped coughing and she was sure he wasn't going to wake up, she straightened the covers around him and went back to sleep.

Sharon woke again a little while later. She. Felt. Like. Hell. She looked at her phone, and it was 9:00. Rusty's appointment was at 10:00.

"Rusty, honey, wake up," she said, gently shaking his shoulder. "Go get in the shower. You have a doctor's appointment in an hour." Sharon gave him two Tylenol and found some clean clothes for him before he stumbled into the bathroom. She took two Tylenol, herself, and went into her bedroom and lay down on her bed. How had she gotten so sick so fast? She had felt perfectly fine when she woke up less than three hours ago- _damn it, Amy,_ she thought to herself. This had to be the flu. She lay on her bed until she heard Rusty leave the bathroom, knowing he was almost ready. She threw on some jeans and a sweater, put her hair up in a clip, and brushed her teeth. She went to Rusty's room to see if he was ready to go.

As miserable as Sharon was, she knew Rusty was much worse off than she was. She put an arm around him as they walked down to her car.

"You don't look good, Sharon. Did I make you sick?" Rusty asked worriedly.

"No, honey. I just have a little cold," Sharon lied.

"I know I don't have the, like, 'Mom psychic superpower' that you do, but you look pretty sick. Like, worse than a cold." Sharon's body chose that unfortunate moment to cough.

"Rusty. I'm fine. Don't worry." Rusty shrugged and looked out the window. Thirty minutes later, Rusty was sitting on an exam table in Dr. Leary's office, and Sharon was in a visitor's chair, fighting to remain upright.

"Hi, Rusty, back so soon?" asked Dr. Leary when she entered the room. Rusty nodded miserably. "So, what's the problem today?"

Rusty responded before Sharon could describe his symptoms. "Sharon's sick."

" _Rusty_. I am not. I have a cold. _Anyway_ , Rusty had gradually been feeling better from having bronchitis, but when he came home from school on Monday, he was really tired, he had a headache, and his cough had gotten worse. He didn't start running a fever until yesterday morning, though. I hear a rattling sound when he coughs, and he's been wheezing. He hadn't done that before yesterday." Sharon paused, and took a couple of deep breaths. "His throat is sore, and he seems to be a little congested."

Dr. Leary nodded thoughtfully, and carefully examined Rusty. After a chest x-Ray and blood work, she diagnosed him with pneumonia, explaining that it was likely a complication of bronchitis.

"I'm sorry, honey. I should have kept you home a couple more days," Sharon said quietly, feeling guilty.

"This doesn't happen often, Sharon. Six days at home is usually more than reasonable for bronchitis, and this probably would have happened, anyway. Neither of you did anything wrong, Rusty just got a little unlucky." She turned to Sharon, and was concerned at her sickly appearance. "You can care for Rusty at home, but you're going to have to watch him closely. You need to monitor his temperature, and watch for...Actually, I'll feel better if I write all of this down for you," Dr. Leary said, noting Sharon's dazed expression. Sharon nodded absently.

"Now, let's take a look at you," Dr. Leary said to Sharon. She had heard her cough a few times since coming into the room, but it didn't sound like the bronchitis variety. "Didn't you say the flu was going around your office?" Sharon nodded again, too weak to keep up the charade. Not having a thermometer handy, Dr. Leary felt Sharon's cheeks to gauge her temperature. Finding her to be feverish, she gently prodded at her lymph nodes, then looked in her throat. She did a flu swab, then left the room to perform the test. She returned fifteen minutes later and confirmed that Sharon had the flu.

"What if Rusty gets the flu?"

"What if Sharon gets pneumonia?"

Sharon and Rusty asked simultaneously.

"I'm prescribing Tamiflu for both of you. Rusty's will be a smaller, preventative dose, so make sure you don't mix up your medicine. And, Rusty, I doubt you are even contagious. I also prescribed an antibiotic for you, because I believe you have a bacterial strain. Make sure you finish the entire prescription. Don't stop taking it when you feel better."

"Can I continue to give him the cough syrup you prescribed last time?" Sharon asked.

"Yes. Call the office if you run out before his cough improves." Dr. Leary turned to Sharon and gave her a card with her personal phone number. "I'd like to see Rusty again next week. I know you're not feeling well, so if you have any concerns and you don't feel like you're thinking clearly, please call me here or at home." Sharon thanked her, and they left.


	6. Chapter 6

Sharon and Rusty were exhausted when they got home from the doctor's office. Sharon poured a glass of Gatorade for Rusty and water for herself, and led him to a bar stool in the kitchen. "I'll make you some soup really quick, and then we can take our drugs and pass out," Sharon said. She was grateful that she had done such a big grocery trip the first time Rusty got sick. Kicking herself for not considering the fact that the boy would inevitably get sick at some point, she had bought medicine for every symptom imaginable, as well as enough soup, Gatorade, and other things to supply a small country's worth of sick people. Never again would she be so unprepared.

Sharon put some soup on the stove before going back to Rusty's room for the Tylenol and cough syrup. She stopped in the hall to turn up the thermostat. She was freezing. After she had given him both medicines, she took some Tylenol herself, and pulled the bag with their prescriptions out of her purse. She read over the directions for their respective doses of Tamiflu, and gave Rusty his dose before taking her own. While waiting for Rusty's soup to be ready, she went to her room to change into some clean sweatpants, but was too tired for pulling her sweater over her head at the moment.

Sharon went back into the kitchen and picked up her phone to text Chief Taylor and Provenza.

 _Rusty has pneumonia, and I have the flu. We are under quarantine until further notice._

Provenza was quick to respond.

 _Told you hiring Sykes was a bad idea._

"Sharon, you have to eat," Rusty said a few minutes later when Sharon handed him a bowl of soup.

"I'm not hungry."

"You're not going to get well if you don't eat," Rusty said, using her own words against her.

"Rusty. I will eat when I am hungry. That's one of the perks of being a grown-up," Sharon said, setting her glasses on the bar and rubbing her eyes.

"Fine. But I'm not eating until you do. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty tired, and would love to be able to go to bed soon. But if you'd rather sit here until you're hungry, we can do that, too." Sharon sighed in defeat, and poured the remaining soup from the pot into a bowl. They ate in silence for a few moments.

"Finish your Gatorade, and we can go to bed," Sharon said when their bowls were empty.

"After you finish your water." Sharon rolled her eyes, but complied. She refilled her glass, filled another glass with water, and got two bottles of Gatorade out of the refrigerator, wincing as she passed the sink with the dirty dishes from dinner the night before. Leaving dishes in the sink should have clued her in that something was wrong. She opened the bag from the pharmacy, intending to put the Gatorade and all of the medicine in it to make it easier to carry to her room, and spotted another prescription bottle.

"Crap, Rusty, I forgot about your antibiotic," Sharon said, fishing out a pill and handing it to him.

"Did you just say _crap?"_

"Yes, I did. Take your pill." Rusty obeyed, finishing his glass of Gatorade in the process.

"Do you mind getting in my bed? That will be easier for me than getting up when I need to check on you," Sharon said as they left the kitchen. He was already wearing sweatpants, so she didn't need to get him some more clothes. Rusty shrugged his indifference. Sharon set a glass of water, a bottle of Gatorade, and his Tamiflu on the bedside table, and walked around and put the other glass of water, the bag of medicine and extra Gatorade, and her phone on her nightstand while Rusty climbed into her bed. She tucked him in once he was settled. "If I'm asleep when you wake up, then please wake me," she said, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. She was relieved that his fever didn't feel too high. She walked around her bed and climbed in, rubbing Rusty's back as they both fell asleep.

Rusty woke up at 4:30. Sharon was propped up against her pillows, watching a movie on her computer.

"What are you watching?"

"Oh, hi, honey. How are you feeling?"

Rusty shrugged. "Same." Sharon gave him his antibiotic and some Tylenol. She knew she should check his temperature, but the thermometer was in his room, which seemed miles away. She put her hand on his forehead instead. He felt a little warmer than before, but he still didn't feel like his temperature was terribly high. The thermometer could wait.

"This is _Anne of Green Gables._ It's my favorite movie, but the only time I can be still long enough to watch it is when I'm sick." Rusty had never even heard of it, but he lay his head in her lap and watched it with her as Sharon absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair. A little while later, a familiar tune was playing in the background. It took Rusty a minute to figure out where he had heard it before.

"Hey, isn't that the tune you've been humming to me?"

"Yes. I love the score to this movie. There's something soothing about it," Sharon said, rubbing her fingers across Rusty's forehead.

"I'll go get us something to eat," Sharon said, getting up once the movie was over.

"I can do it, Sharon, you made lunch."

"You need to rest."

"So do you," Rusty said, followed by an ill-timed coughing fit. Sharon grabbed some tissues from the bedside table and held them for Rusty to cough into.

"This is non-negotiable. I'll be right back."

"With two bowls, or I'm not eating!" Rusty called after her.

Sharon and Rusty both fell asleep for the night not long after they had eaten dinner. Sharon woke in the middle of the night, knowing she was about to be sick. She threw the covers back and ran into the bathroom. Not long after she started throwing up, Rusty ran in, clearly in the same predicament. Sharon ripped the liner from the small garbage pail beside the toilet and handed the pail to Rusty as she continued to heave. When she was finished, she wet a wash cloth and kneeled beside Rusty, who was sitting against the wall, emptying his stomach into the pail. She patted his back and wiped his face until he was finished. She got up to fill a small cup she kept on her sink with water.

"I'm sorry," Rusty said, his tired voice barely a whisper.

"Don't worry about it, honey. I think it's the Tamiflu. Neither one of us could help it."

"How's this for 'quality time?'"

Sharon smiled. "Not exactly what I had in mind."

"Go back to bed, Sharon. I'll clean this up," Rusty said as she crouched down beside him and gave him the cup. Sharon ignored him, and wiped his mouth with the cloth.

"Rinse your mouth out. Just spit into the pail." Rusty obeyed, then took a few slow sips. Once Sharon had given Rusty more Tylenol and cough syrup and tucked him back into bed, she returned to the bathroom to wipe her own face and rinse her mouth out. She dumped the contents of the pail into the toilet, then filled the pail with water from the bathtub. She dumped that into the toilet and flushed. She rinsed the pail a couple more times before returning to bed.

"Are you okay?" Sharon asked, when she saw that Rusty was still awake. "Cold...And my head hurts." Sharon felt his forehead, then turned her lamp on and looked closely at him. He looked more feverish than he felt to her touch, but she didn't think any more of it. She still hadn't gotten the thermometer from Rusty's room, and she was too worn out to think about getting up again. The Tylenol would help, though. She turned the lamp off.

"Come here, honey," she said softly, pulling him close to her and putting his head on her shoulder. He buried his face in her neck. She wrapped the covers tightly around them and gently rubbed his forehead, rocking back and forth and humming, until he was asleep. She turned him on his side and snuggled against him, needing warmth herself.

At 10:00 on Thursday morning, DDA Hobbs went to the station, needing Sharon's signature on a document from a previous case. "Where's the captain?" She asked the squad room at large when she saw that Sharon's office was dark.

"Sykes oh so generously took the entire team down with the flu. The captain was the last one standing, but now she's out. Oh, and the boy has pneumonia." Provenza explained.

"That's not good. Have any of you talked to her today?" Andrea asked, and was met with blank stares. "No one has checked on her?" Silence. "Don't you think one of you should?" The blank stares turned to looks of terror. Andrea rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone to text Sharon. She knew Sharon would refuse help, so she asked if she could bring a document by her condo for her to sign. It actually wasn't urgent, but Sharon didn't need to know that. Sharon responded pretty quickly.

 _Key in drawer in office._

Andrea wasn't sure what that meant at first, but decided that Sharon must have an extra set of keys at work, and meant for Andrea to take them with her so Sharon didn't have to get up to let her in. She dug through Sharon's drawers until she found them and went back out to the squad room. She had also luckily come across a copy of Rusty's DCFS file, which contained Sharon's address. "You guys are wimps," Andrea said, giving the remaining squad a disapproving look as she left.

Andrea let herself in to Sharon's condo around 10:30 and looked around for a bedroom. She peeked in Sharon's room, not sure at first if it was Sharon's room or Rusty's. She smiled in surprise at the scene before her. Sharon and Rusty were both in the bed, _spooning._ Not in an inappropriate way or anything, just in a sweet, mother-son way. Andrea stood near the door and watched them for a few minutes. Sharon's arm was around Rusty, and when he became restless, she would unconsciously stroke his hair, never waking.

Andrea wanted to let Sharon sleep a little longer, so she went to the kitchen to look around and see if she needed to get some groceries. The kitchen and refrigerator seemed pretty well-stocked, though. The sink was full of dirty dishes, so Andrea decided to load the dishwasher before deciding whether to wake Sharon.

Sharon startled awake, hearing the sound of clinking dishes. She was alarmed at first, but then vaguely remembered that someone was coming by for some reason. Or did she dream that? Sharon checked her phone, and realized it was probably Andrea in the kitchen. She was probably helping herself to something to drink. Sharon looked down at Rusty and checked his forehead. He didn't feel terribly warm, but he looked terrible. She would get up and see what Andrea needed, then actually remember to get the thermometer this time. God, her arms and legs weighed a thousand pounds. Sharon took her Tamiflu, then walked into the kitchen and saw Andrea loading the dishwasher.

"Andrea! You're going to get sick. This place is crawling with germs."

"Hi, Captain. I'm sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't. And you're washing my dishes while I'm standing here looking like an extra from _The Walking Dead._ I think you can call me Sharon. I'll sign the document so you can get out of here before you get sick."

"Well, actually, I'm afraid I was 'patient zero' in this flu epidemic, so I'm not worried about that. I spent a good bit of time speaking with Amy the last time I was at the station, and by the time I got home that night, I felt miserable. But if you tell Provenza, I'll have to kill you. And I doubt Rusty is contagious."

Sharon chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me, but Amy would rat you out in a heartbeat if she knew. Provenza has been giving her hell. Are you not working today?" She asked when she saw how casually Andrea was dressed.

"I can imagine. And I had a doctor's appointment this morning, so I just took the whole day off. I was near the station and had the document with me, though, so I stopped to get your signature so I wouldn't have to do it later." Sharon nodded. "So, how are you guys doing? You seem pretty stocked on groceries, but is there anything you need? I'm sorry for snooping, by the way. I just wanted to see if I needed to run to the store for you."

"I appreciate it, but I don't think so. I did a pretty big shopping trip the first time he got sick. I'm worried about Rusty, though. The doctor put him on a preventative dose of Tamiflu, and it made us both sick last night. He's looked terrible since then."

"Let me make you some breakfast, and I'll go check on him."

"I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat, Sharon. Sit down."

Andrea gave Sharon a glass of water and made scrambled eggs and bacon. "Eat all of it. I don't trust you to eat later."

"Oh, Rusty has been guilting me into eating, I can assure you."

Andrea smiled. Sharon and Rusty seemed to have come a long way in the last couple of weeks. They had never seemed hostile toward each other, but they hadn't exactly seemed overly fond of one another, either. Andrea went to check on Rusty while Sharon ate.

Andrea walked into Sharon's room and sat on the edge of the bed. She gently held her hand to his forehead. He was alarmingly hot. She walked back into the kitchen.

"Um, Sharon? Have you checked Rusty's temperature today?"

Sharon shook her head guiltily. "No," she admitted. "The thermometer has been in his room, and I haven't been able to remember that I need it until after I've just gotten back in bed after doing something else, and I've been too tired to get back up to get it. He hasn't felt terribly warm, though. I would have sucked it up and gotten the thermometer if he had."

Andrea waited until Sharon finished eating before saying, "Rusty's burning up, Sharon. I think you should take his temperature. Get back in bed, and I'll find the thermometer."

Andrea walked down the hall to Rusty's room, and found the thermometer on his nightstand. She went back to Sharon's room. Sharon was sitting beside Rusty with her hand on his forehead. "He's feverish, Andrea, but I wouldn't say he's burning up."

"Your body temperature is off, Sharon. You're not going to be able to accurately gauge his temperature by touch while you have a fever."

Sharon was worried now. She should have known by how awful Rusty looked that his temperature must have been higher than it had felt. She took the thermometer from Andrea.

"Rusty, honey, I need to take your temperature," Sharon said, gently shaking his shoulder. Rusty groaned. "Tired."

"You don't have to open your eyes, just let me put the thermometer under your tongue." Rusty allowed Sharon to take his temperature, and she gasped when she saw that it was 104.4. "Oh god, Andrea, should I take him to the ER?"

"Not just yet." Andrea examined Rusty's face, hands, and feet, looking for blueness that would indicate low oxygen levels. Rusty just lay there listlessly. Andrea noticed the Tylenol on Sharon's nightstand. "Do you have Advil or Motrin?"

Sharon nodded. "Advil."

"Okay. Let's give him Tylenol now, and we can give him Advil in two hours. They work differently, so it's safe to give him overlapping doses." Andrea got up to get a lukewarm cloth from the bathroom while Sharon woke Rusty to give him Tylenol and his prescriptions. Andrea came back and handed the cloth to Sharon. "Wipe his face and torso while I get him something to eat. Stop if he starts shivering. If we can't get his fever down in the next couple of hours, I'll take you guys to the hospital."

Andrea came back a few moments later with a banana and fresh glass of water. "I'll bring you something else if this isn't enough, but I doubt you have much of an appetite," she told Rusty.

"Hobbs? What are you doing here?"

"I needed Sharon's signature on something. I'm going to stay for a while and help you guys out, though. How are you feeling?"

"Like hell."

"You look like it. Are you having trouble breathing?" Rusty shook his head. Andrea gave Rusty the glass of water. "Finish this," she instructed.

When Rusty finished the banana, Andrea took the peel and the dishes from the day before into the kitchen. She put the remaining dishes in the dishwasher and returned to Sharon's room with water and Gatorade for both of them. Rusty was walking back from the bathroom. He climbed into bed and leaned against Sharon. "Drink a few sips of Gatorade, Rusty," Andrea said.

"God, you're worse than Sharon," Rusty grumbled.

Andrea busied herself with picking up tissues and straightening up the room, but she watched out of the corner of her eye as Sharon wrapped an arm around Rusty, brushed his bangs back and kissed his forehead, and soothed him back to sleep. She felt a spark of jealousy, but that quickly subsided when she considered the major inconvenience of having children. Not to mention the annoyance of a relationship with a man. She preferred casual encounters with men and the type of children that she could send back to their parents when she'd had enough. She had a niece and nephew that she loved dearly, but she also didn't have to be responsible for them.

"Sharon? I'm going to run out and get an ear thermometer so you won't have to wake him to take his temperature. I'm going to run a couple of other errands, but I'll be back in about an hour. If you notice him having trouble breathing or his lips or nail beds turning blue, call me, and I'll come right back and we'll go to the ER.

"Thanks, Andrea. You are a godsend. There's some money in my purse by the door. Wait, how do you _know_ all of this?"

"My niece had pneumonia a couple of years ago. My sister was out of town for work, so I went to help out my brother-in-law. Her temperature spiked like Rusty's did, and we panicked and took her to the hospital. She wasn't dehydrated and her oxygen level was fine, so they started by doing what we're doing right now. I don't know what they would have done if her fever hadn't gone down, but I don't think we should take Rusty without trying this first." Sharon nodded in agreement. "Drink your water, Sharon. I want your water and a little bit of Gatorade gone by the time I get back."

"Yes, drill sargeant. Thanks again."

"No problem. Be back soon. Text me if you think of anything else I can get for you while I'm out. And _rest_."

Andrea returned a little over an hour later. Sharon was still holding Rusty, and they were both sleeping. Andrea felt Rusty's forehead, and he still felt like his temperature was high. She placed the thermometer in his ear, and his temperature was 103.9. Better, but still too high. She placed the Motrin she had bought on the nightstand, not wanting to take the time to look for Sharon's Advil. She re-wet the cloth from earlier and sat on the other side of Rusty, wiping his face. Thirty minutes later, Andrea gently woke Rusty.

"Wake up," she said softly, shaking his shoulder. "You need to take some medicine."

"I just took medicine," Rusty mumbled.

"And it's time for more. You can go right back to sleep, I promise." Rusty sat up and accepted the Motrin from Andrea. "Finish your water." Rusty rolled his eyes, but complied. He rolled over on his side and went back to sleep, cuddled against Sharon.

Sharon woke about an hour later, and Andrea was taking Rusty's temperature. "How long have I been asleep?" Sharon asked in a panic.

"I've only been back for an hour and a half. I gave Rusty some Motrin about an hour ago, and-" Andrea looked at the beeping thermometer. "His temperature is 103.6."

"So, now what?" Sharon asked, relieved to have someone else taking charge.

"As long as his temperature continues to go down, I don't think we'll have to take him to the ER. We'll give him some Tylenol at 3:00, and have him take a lukewarm bath. We should probably call his doctor after that, to make sure we haven't missed anything."

"Oh! She gave me a list of things to watch for. I can't believe I forgot." Sharon went to get out of bed, but Andrea stopped her. "I'll get it. Where is it?"

"In my purse."

Andrea found the list and Dr. Leary's card and warmed up a bowl of soup for Sharon. She had stopped at a deli and bought several different kinds. Andrea went back to Sharon's room and reviewed the list while Sharon ate.

"There's nothing on here we haven't already checked," Andrea said. "It says to call her if his temperature is over 103 and doesn't respond to medicine. Nothing else on here is a problem right now."

"Has Rusty eaten?"

"No, he's only been awake long enough to take some medicine. I'll make him eat when he wakes up again. Sharon, have you taken _your_ temperature? You don't look so good, yourself."

"No, but I'm fine. I don't feel that bad." Andrea replaced the probe cover with a new one and reached for Sharon with the thermometer. " _Andrea_ -"

"I can do this now, or wait until you fall asleep. You won't be able to take care of Rusty if you don't take care of yourself." Sharon allowed Andrea to put the thermometer in her ear. "103. When was the last time you took some Tylenol?"

"I don't know. Sometime yesterday." Andrea picked up the Tylenol bottle and gave two pills and her Gatorade to Sharon. "Take a few more sips," Andrea said after Sharon had washed down the pills. "Now sleep. I can handle Rusty for a while. I promise I'll wake you if anything changes."

At 3:00, Andrea woke Rusty to give him some Tylenol. Sharon had fallen back asleep. Andrea brought Rusty a bowl of soup and refilled his water glass. While Rusty was eating, Andrea walked over to Sharon's nightstand to see if there was more medicine Rusty needed to take. His Tamiflu had been on his nightstand, and she had looked to make sure he had taken it today. He had a prescription for an antibiotic and cough syrup. After reading the labels, Andrea realized he was probably due for doses of both. She peeked in Sharon's prescription to make sure she had been taking hers.

When Rusty was finished eating, Andrea gave him his antibiotic and a spoonful of cough syrup. She went to the bathroom to run a bath for him, then went to his room and found some clean clothes for him. She stopped in his bathroom to get his toothbrush and some toiletries. "I know you don't want to get up, but your temperature is too high, and you need to take a lukewarm bath. If you start shivering, you can add some warmer water. Otherwise, the water needs to be as cool as is comfortable for you. That's very important. Got it?" Rusty nodded.

"Do I have to?" He whined.

"Unless you want to end up in the hospital, I strongly suggest it."

Rusty groaned and took his clothes and things from Andrea, shuffling to the bathroom. While Rusty was gone, she counted the pills in his antibiotic bottle to make sure he had taken one that morning. She knew Sharon was a great mother and very responsible, but she also couldn't imagine having to take care of a child with pneumonia while she had the flu. Andrea had barely been able to take care of herself when she had it, much less someone else.

Andrea called for Rusty to get out of the bath about twenty minutes later. Rusty soon emerged and crawled back in bed. He did feel a little better. Andrea sat beside him and brushed his bangs back from his forehead, relieved that he didn't feel as hot as before. She picked up the thermometer and held it under his tongue. "103.2. Still not good, but moving in the right direction. Are you having trouble breathing at all?"" Rusty shook his head. "Okay. Drink some water, and try to go back to sleep."

Andrea picked up Dr. Leary's card and went to the kitchen to call her. She identified herself as Sharon to the receptionist and asked for Dr. Leary. After being on hold for fifteen minutes, Dr. Leary came to the phone. Andrea explained that she was a friend of Sharon's and filled her in on the day's events.

"You've done all of the right things for him, but I'm glad you called. Continue rotating Tylenol and Motrin until he goes to bed tonight. Sharon won't need to give him any medicine during the night unless he wakes up on his own."

"I'm glad you said that. It will be easier to talk her out of setting the alarm on her phone for every two hours tonight."

Dr. Leary chuckled. "That wouldn't surprise me. If Rusty's temperature reaches 104 again tomorrow, have Sharon do exactly what you did today. Tell her to call me back if she can't get his temperature under 104, or if it's over 103 and doesn't respond to medicine. She'll also need to continue to check his lips and nail beds periodically for blueness.

"Got it. Thanks so much."

"You're welcome. Hope they both feel better soon."

Andrea sat on Sharon's bed and read on her iPad while the other two slept. Rusty was curled into Sharon, leaving Andrea half of the bed to herself. Andrea woke Rusty at 5:00 and 7:00 to give him medicine. His temperature was still going down, slowly but surely. Sharon woke, disoriented, at 7:45. She looked over and saw Andrea.

"What time is it?"

"7:45."

"Oh, my god! Rusty!"

"He's fine, Sharon. His temperature is below 103 now. I called Dr. Leary earlier, and she said not to worry." Andrea hesitated. "Sharon, I really didn't mean to come in and take over. I just-"

"Andrea, are you kidding? I don't know what we would have done without you today. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't made me take Rusty's temperature this morning."

"He would have been fine. You're a great mom, and you would have figured it out. I just made it a little easier. Now take some Tylenol. And drink some Gatorade."

Sharon giggled. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry you wasted your day off on us."

"It was more interesting than what I had planned, I promise. Cleaning out my closet can wait until this weekend."

Sharon took two Tylenol, then went ahead and took her second dose of Tamiflu. Rusty was only taking one per day and had already taken it, but he needed to take his antibiotic. She hadn't given it to him since that morning.

"Where is Rusty's antibiotic?" Sharon murmured, rummaging around her nightstand. He's only had one today."

"I gave him one a little after 3:00. And some cough syrup," Andrea said. "His antibiotic is on his nightstand."

"You are a lifesaver. I can't thank you enough."

"I'm glad I could help." Andrea went to the kitchen to make a bowl of soup for Sharon and to refill her glass of water. When she got back to Sharon's room, she started telling her about the conversation she had with her team at the station that morning.

"Oh, yes. Don't I need to sign something?" Sharon asked.

"I'll bring it to you before I leave. It's actually not that urgent, but you might as well sign it while I'm here. Who knows when you'll be able to come back to work," Andrea said, running her hand over Rusty's warm forehead. Andrea continued with her story. Sharon laughed hysterically at Andrea's imitation of everyone's faces when she suggested that someone check on Sharon.

"It's not that they don't care about you," Andrea quickly clarified. "I think they're just still a little afraid of you. And they probably don't know how serious pneumonia can get. I wouldn't have known, either, if my niece hadn't gotten so sick that one time."

"Oh, I know," Sharon said. "Amy is more skittish than a kitten around me. And the men are just oblivious about these things. "Can you imagine getting a text from Provenza asking how you were feeling? I would keel over!" They were both in hysterics by now.

"What are you girls cackling about?" Rusty grumbled.

"Sorry, honey," Sharon said, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. But I'm glad you're awake. You need to eat."

"I've got it," Andrea said, getting up. She came back soon with a bowl of soup and the form for Sharon to sign. When Sharon and Rusty had finished eating, Andrea put their bowls in the dishwasher, along with a couple of dishes that she had missed earlier. She started the dishwasher, and took Sharon and Rusty fresh glasses of water and a Gatorade for each of them.

"Sharon, do you have any NyQuil? It wouldn't be a bad idea for you guys to take some, since you've been sleeping all day."

"Look in my bathroom closet. Rusty's cough syrup knocks him out, but I wouldn't mind some."

Andrea found the NyQuil and put it on Sharon's nightstand. "Rusty needs to take Motrin at 9:00, and, if you're awake, Sharon, you should take some at 10:00. Dr. Leary said not to keep up the two hour schedule throughout the night, but Rusty can have some medicine if he wakes up on his own. _Sleep_ , Sharon. I'm sure Rusty will wake you if he needs you." She turned to face Rusty. " _Won't you_ ," she said pointedly.

"Dear god. Yes."

"Good. I'll check on you guys in the morning before work. I'll hold on to your keys until then, don't get up to lock the door. Call me tonight if you need anything. I mean it." Andrea picked up her signed document and left.

"Damn, Sharon, I didn't think it was possible for anyone to be bossier than you are."

"You're going to pay for that when we're no longer invalids."


	7. Chapter 7

Rusty woke at 5:30 the next morning, freezing and with a terrible headache. His prescriptions were the only medicine on his bedside table, and none of those were any help for a headache. The Tylenol and Motrin were on Sharon's side of the bed. He didn't want to wake Sharon, but based on the conversation with Hobbs the night before, he guessed that Sharon slept better knowing that she didn't have to listen for him, because he would wake her if he needed something. He could certainly find the Tylenol by himself, but if he accidentally woke Sharon in the process, then she probably wouldn't sleep well until he was better. And she needed sleep to get better, herself. Rusty sighed, and hesitantly woke Sharon.

"What's the matter? Are you okay?" Sharon asked, sitting up and feeling his forehead. She knew it was basically pointless since she also had a fever, but it was just instinct.

"My head hurts really bad," Rusty admitted. Sharon grabbed the nearest thermometer and held it under his tongue. His temperature was back up to 103.8. She gave him some Tylenol and made him finish his glass of water. He still had Gatorade in case he woke up thirsty later. Sharon set her alarm to go off two hours later, so she could give him some Motrin. Rusty was starting to shiver, so Sharon wrapped the covers around him more tightly and held him close to her. She massaged his forehead and temples with her fingers and ran her other hand through his hair until he fell asleep. Once his breathing evened out and he was lying more heavily against her, Sharon lay him down and continued to hold him close to her as she lay down and went back to sleep.

Hobbs quietly let herself into Sharon's apartment at 7:15 the next morning. She didn't expect Sharon or Rusty to be awake, but she wanted to leave them fresh water and something for breakfast on their nightstands, so they would only get out of bed if they had to. She crept into Sharon's room and left a glass of water and a banana on each nightstand. She sat gingerly beside Rusty and held her hand to his forehead. His temperature felt a little too high, although not as high as when she had first arrived the day before. She stuck the thermometer in Rusty's ear, and his temperature was 103.3. Andrea had thirty minutes before she needed to leave for work, so she decided to unload the dishwasher before waking him to take some medicine. She picked up their water glasses from the day before and went to the kitchen.

Andrea had just finished unloading the dishwasher when she heard Sharon's alarm going off. Andrea put the glasses in the dishwasher and went to see why Sharon was getting up so early. She entered the bedroom, and Sharon was waking Rusty, with the bottle of Motrin in her hand.

"Please tell me you haven't been getting up every two hours all night," Andrea said.

"Hi, Andrea. No, we were both unconscious until 5:30. Rusty woke up with a bad headache, and his temperature was 103.7, so I gave him some Tylenol. I set my alarm then so I could give him some Motrin."

"Good. His temperature was 103.3 ten minutes ago. Drink half of your water, Rusty," Andrea said after Rusty had swallowed the pills.

"It's too early to be double-teamed," Rusty whined.

Sharon started to reach over Rusty for his prescriptions.

"I'll get it," Andrea said. "Take your own medicine. And some Tylenol. Drink the whole glass of water, you had barely touched yours from last night when I got here."

Andrea sat beside Rusty and helped him sit up. He started coughing while she was opening his antibiotic bottle. Andrea grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand, and held them under his chin. "Don't swallow it. You'll feel worse." Rusty coughed into the tissues, and Andrea threw them away. She came back and shook out a pill from the antibiotic bottle and handed it to Rusty. She fed him a spoonful of his cough syrup after he had swallowed the pill.

"His cough syrup is almost gone," Andrea said to Sharon.

"Already?" Sharon sighed. "Dr. Leary said she would call in another prescription if he ran out before his cough improved. I'll call her in a little bit."

"I'll call her, and I'll pick it up and come back at lunch," Andrea said. "Do you guys want anything else? I didn't think you would be very hungry, but I can bring you something else to eat." They both shook their heads.

"I think we're going back to sleep," Sharon said groggily.

"If you need something later that can wait until I come back, don't get up. I'll be here around noon." Andrea smoothed her hand over Rusty's hot forehead. She took Sharon's phone and set the alarm for 9:30, labeling it _Tylenol_.

"I'll be back not long after 11:30, so after he takes Tylenol at 9:30, don't set your alarm again. If you're awake at 11:30, go ahead and give him some Motrin, but I'll be here not long after that, so it can wait until I get here if you're asleep. You need to sleep as much as possible."

"You're the best, Andrea," Sharon murmured, unconsciously pulling Rusty to her as she went back to sleep.

Andrea returned a little before noon, as promised. Sharon and Rusty were sleeping peacefully. She took Rusty's temperature, and it was 102.8. She wondered if Sharon had given him some Motrin already. She needed to wake them to eat, but couldn't decide whether to do it now or to let them sleep a little while longer. Rusty made the decision for her when he jumped up and ran for the bathroom, hand covering his mouth. Sharon pushed her covers back and started to get out of bed before she had even opened her eyes. Andrea stopped her.

"I've got it. Lie down." Andrea grabbed Rusty's glass of water and went into the bathroom, where Rusty was leaning over the toilet, throwing up. Andrea wet a wash cloth with cold water and crouched beside Rusty, wiping his face and patting his back. After a few minutes, he was mostly dry-heaving, but he sounded like he could hardly catch his breath.

"Rinse your mouth out," Andrea said, handing him his water.

"Thanks," Rusty mumbled after rinsing and taking a few sips.

"Were you sick to your stomach yesterday, too?" Andrea asked, wiping his mouth.

"No. A little nauseous, but not actually sick."

"It's probably the Tamiflu. I've taken it before, and it made me sick at first, but it subsided after a couple of days. Hopefully it won't make you sick anymore." Rusty nodded, and allowed Andrea to help him back to bed.

"What about you, Sharon? Have you been sick again?" Sharon shook her head.

"My stomach felt a little unsettled yesterday, but it's been fine today."

"Good. Has Rusty had Motrin recently?" Sharon shook her head, so Andrea gave him some, along with his antibiotic and the last of the cough syrup. She placed the new bottle on the nightstand. "His temperature was 102.8 when I got here," Andrea said, brushing Rusty's bangs back from his forehead.

"I didn't think you had any children," Rusty said to Andrea.

"I don't. Why?"

"You just seem pretty good at the 'mom' thing."

Andrea smiled. "I spend a lot of time with my niece and nephew. I've gotten pretty good at faking the 'mom' thing."

Andrea made lunch for all of them and put the dishes in the dishwasher. "I'll bring you guys dinner tonight. Let me know sometime this afternoon if either of you wants something in particular. Otherwise, I'll bring more soup."

"I'm too tired to refuse. Thank you so much," Sharon said, opening her arms as Rusty leaned into her. She felt guilty for taking up so much of Andrea's time, but, hell, she was offering. And the one time she had gotten out of bed that day had been torture.

"This flu was vicious. If my sister hadn't come over a couple of times a day and made me eat, I don't think I would have eaten for almost a week. The company was nice, too. Being sick and alone sucks. And I certainly would have never been able to care for a sick child at the same time. It's not like I have a hot date tonight, anyway."

"That makes two of us."

"Three," Rusty chimed in from Sharon's shoulder.

Andrea glanced at her watch. "I need to get back to work, but I'll bring dinner around 6:00. Since Rusty's temperature is down, I would wait until 3:00 to give him some Tylenol. If his temperature is still down then, I'll give him Motrin when I get here, so you don't have to worry about waking up to give it to him. If his temperature goes back up, though, give him Motrin at 5:00. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks," Sharon murmured, eyes drooping. Andrea tucked the covers around mother and son before leaving for work.

Sharon woke on Saturday morning, feeling a little better. She left her bedroom for the first time in two days and went to the kitchen to get breakfast for herself and Rusty. She was dreading seeing the stack of dishes that she was sure to find in the sink. The kitchen was immaculate, though. _Bless_ _you_ , _Andrea_ , Sharon thought to herself.

Rusty was stirring when Sharon returned to her room. "How are you feeling?" She asked, brushing his bangs back from his forehead.

"A little better."

Sharon took his temperature. "102.5," Sharon said, frowning at the thermometer. She had hoped it would be lower today. They both took their medicine and ate breakfast. A couple of hours later, Sharon was reading as Rusty slept beside her. He opened his eyes, shifting uncomfortably.

"You okay?"

"I feel sick."

"Are you going to throw up?"

"I don't think so. Just nauseous."

Sharon patted her lap, indicating for Rusty to lie down. She stroked his hair and rubbed his back, trying to soothe him.

"Is this helping?" Sharon asked after a few moments. Rusty nodded weakly. A few minutes later, he was asleep.

Andrea came by and checked on them a couple more times that weekend, feeding them and keeping the condo clean. Sharon felt almost normal by Monday. The same couldn't be said for Rusty. He had improved a good bit, but he still had a long way to go.

On Wednesday morning, Sharon woke at 9:00, finally feeling like herself again. She had a lingering cough and was still sniffling a little, but she could deal with that. She gazed at Rusty, who was still sleeping beside her. She could hear his congestion, and he was still coughing a good bit, but he wasn't coughing anything up anymore. Sharon held her hand to his forehead. He felt pretty warm, but it was an improvement from the day before. His temperature had slowly been going down each day. He had a doctor's appointment at 11:00, so she let him sleep for a while longer.

"Wake up, honey," Sharon said about 45 minutes later, gently shaking Rusty's shoulder. Rusty slowly opened his eyes, which looked clearer than they had the day before. "You look like you're feeling a little better," Sharon said, feeling his forehead. Rusty nodded. "Go take a shower while I make breakfast. There are some clean clothes for you in my bathroom. You have a doctor's appointment at 11:00."

Nearly two hours later, Rusty was sitting uneasily on an exam table in Dr. Leary's office. He was still a little nervous around doctors. Sharon held his hand and rubbed his back reassuringly. "Hi, Rusty. Hi, Sharon," Dr. Leary greeted warmly when she entered the room. "Are you feeling any better?" She asked Rusty. Rusty nodded. "That's good. Let's see how you're doing." She peered in Rusty's throat. "Your throat is still a little inflamed. Does it still hurt?" Rusty nodded.

"A little bit. It's not bad, though." Dr. Leary listened to his chest through her stethoscope.

"Your lungs sound more clear. Is your cough still productive?" Rusty looked at Sharon, not sure what she was talking about.

"No, not since Sunday," Sharon answered. "That means you're not coughing up phlegm anymore," Sharon explained to Rusty. She turned back to Dr. Leary. "He is still wheezing and having chills. He's been getting pretty bad headaches, too."

Dr. Leary glanced down at the notes from the nurse. "You still have a fever, but it's not too high. You also still sound congested. You should see a good bit of improvement by this weekend, though." She turned to Sharon. "I would have liked for his fever to be gone by now, but there's no real cause for concern just yet. Don't be concerned if it fluctuates, unless it's higher than 103. He doesn't seem dehydrated, so that's good. He needs to rest as much as possible, and continue to treat his fever and headaches with Tylenol or whatever you have at home. If one dose doesn't provide relief for his headaches, you can rotate Tylenol and Advil or Motrin every two hours like you were doing when his fever spiked last week. If his temperature isn't normal or if his symptoms haven't improved by Monday, or if his symptoms get worse, bring him back." Sharon nodded, coughing. "And how are you feeling? That flu strain that was going around was pretty intense."

"I'm much better, thank you."

"It's good that you had some help last week."

"Oh, yes. Andrea was a lifesaver. Rusty would have ended up in the hospital if it hadn't been for her."

" _What?!_ " Sharon had almost forgotten Rusty was in the room.

"I didn't realize how high your temperature had gotten, and Andrea made me check it. I panicked and wanted to take you to the ER, but she helped to bring it down enough to avoid that." Rusty remembered Andrea being there, but he had been too out of it to comprehend Sharon's and Andrea's conversations that day.

Dr. Leary could hear that Sharon was still congested. "You need to continue to rest, as well. When are you planning to go back to work?"

"Not until Rusty goes back to school."

"Great. I want Rusty at home for at least another week, but even if he continues to improve, I still want you to call me on Monday. I'll give you a better idea of when he can return to school then. And make sure he finishes his Tamiflu. Since he doesn't have flu symptoms by now, I think he'll be okay, but you never know."

"I will. Thanks so much."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you are both feeling better."

Sharon made lunch for herself and Rusty when they got home. "Do you want to watch TV on the couch, or do you want to get back in my bed?" Sharon asked, once she had put their dishes in the dishwasher.

"Your bed." The trip to the doctor had worn Rusty out.

"Good idea. I could use a nap, myself."

Sharon and Rusty changed clothes and climbed in her bed. Sharon pulled Rusty's shivering form close to her, running her fingers through his hair, as they both fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Rusty felt a lot better when he woke on Friday morning. He had barely gotten out of bed since returning from the doctor on Wednesday, but today he found that he was less congested and his chest hurt less. He wasn't coughing as much, either. Sharon was still asleep beside him. He thought it was weird that he was awake before she was, but then he saw that it was only 6:30 in the morning. He didn't know exactly what time he fell asleep the night before, but he knew he had slept for at least eleven hours. The thought of spending another day in bed made him want to scream. Now that he was feeling a little better, he was getting major cabin fever. There was no reason he couldn't make it through a day of school. Rusty made sure Sharon was still sleeping, and slipped out of bed and went to take a shower.

Sharon woke a little before 7:00, alarmed at first when she saw that Rusty was missing. She remembered that he had fallen asleep before 7:00 the night before, so he was probably in the bathroom. She got up and went into the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. She was reading the paper at the bar when Rusty crept in, dressed in his uniform, book bag over his shoulder. He was startled to see Sharon sitting at the bar in her nightgown. He had been prepared to leave her a note that he was feeling better and had gone to school.

" _What_ do you think you're doing?" Sharon asked, looking at him over her glasses.

"I'm fine now. I'm going to school."

Sharon shook her head. "You still have a fever, you haven't been cleared by Dr. Leary to return to school, and you haven't been cleared by me to return to school...need I continue with everything that's wrong with this picture."

"I don't have a fever," Rusty persisted. " _Please,_ Sharon, I'm dying of boredom."

"Oh, really? I seem to recall you having that same complaint about school not so long ago," Sharon said, walking over to Rusty and putting her hand on his forehead. She was relieved at how cool he felt, but she still detected a little fever.

"Because I didn't know this level of boredom even _existed,_ " Rusty whined.

Sharon sighed. "I'll make you a deal," she said, knowing this would be faster than arguing, and Rusty needed to get back in bed.

"You and your _deals_ ," Rusty grumbled.

"You may go to school today if your temperature is normal. By _normal_ , I mean 98.6, and not a tenth of a degree higher. It's against school policy, since you were still feverish last night, but I'm willing to overlook that." Sharon knew there was no way his temperature was normal. Close, yes, but not normal.

Rusty thought about it for a moment. He didn't feel cold or achy like he usually did when he had a fever. "Deal," he said. "You're going down, Sharon."

"We'll see," Sharon said patiently before sitting Rusty in a chair and retrieving the thermometer from her room. She returned and held the thermometer under his tongue. "98.9. Back to bed," Sharon said, showing him the thermometer.

"How do you _do_ that?" Rusty asked in awe.

Sharon smiled. "Lots of practice. Although, a lot of it came from my other children attempting to feign illness."

"Did they ever get away with it?"

Sharon tilted her head. "What do you think?"

"Not a chance. Do you _ever_ get tired of being right all the time?"

"Well...No. Now, put your pajamas on and get back in bed."

Rusty shuffled back to his room and changed back into his pajamas before climbing in Sharon's bed. Sharon came in shortly after with a glass of water and gave him his Tamiflu and antibiotic, both of which would be gone after today. "Do you want some Tylenol or cough syrup?" Rusty shook his head. "All right. Let me know if you want some later," Sharon said, kissing his forehead. Rusty spent the morning watching TV while Sharon sat beside him, working on her computer.

After lunch, Rusty had a headache, he felt cold, and his head felt heavy. Sharon didn't say a word. She tenderly placed her hand on his forehead, made that sympathetic "hmmm" sound she always made when she didn't like how warm he felt, and handed him two Tylenol without asking whether he wanted it.

"Don't say it, Sharon," Rusty muttered, shivering, as he leaned into her open arms. Sharon smirked at him as she wrapped the covers more tightly around him.

"I don't think I have to," Sharon said, brushing his bangs back from his forehead.

"I'm sorry. All I've done is whine."

"That is not true. You've been pretty tough through all of this. I can't imagine how badly you've been feeling, and I don't blame you for being a little grumpy. You've earned it. I'm actually pleased to hear you whine a little. It lets me know that you trust me to help you and take care of you."

"Did your children whine when they were sick?"

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Like you wouldn't _believe_."

"Even at my age?"

" _Especially_ at your age. The older they got, the more they complained. They were never nearly as sick as you have been, yet, you haven't whined nearly as much as they did."

"Wusses," Rusty murmured, snuggling against Sharon's shoulder.

"No arguments here."

"Thanks for taking care of me," Rusty said quietly. "I can't imagine being this sick without you."

Tears came to Sharon's eyes as she looked down at her new son. "You don't need to thank me, honey. I will always take care of you." Sharon lay back against the pillows, still holding Rusty close to her, and softly stroked his forehead, humming softly, as they both fell asleep.


End file.
